Dwelling Dragonlord
ArchKnight AQ / OOC / L&L
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CHAPTER XXVI: Thee Quest Completed
Azer led his frogzard forward.
"Well met, could we perhaps peruse this resting place for food and company? We have coin to pay for both shelter and supplies," Azer declared with a raised voice, like squires do when announcing their knights at the start of a joust, so everyone could clearly hear him. For a while the crowd murmured and whispered, Azer thought of using magic to listen to what they were saying yet decided against it. While at least two of them were accustomed to magic, which worked both in and against his favour, the others were not and most people mistrusted if not outright feared magic and its users or at least in this part of Battleonia. After a couple of minutes of debate the group dispersed and a blonde, balding gnome with a moustache wearing a brown cloak over a brown shirt and a pair of jeans stepped forward to meet him.
"Well met, traveller. Might we inquire as to your identity as well as those of your companions?" The gnome asked him.
"I am the squire to a southern lord who wishes to remain anonymous," Azer motioned to Volu whose features were hidden by the green tentsail and continued, "With us are an orc mercenary, who prefers to be addressed by the name they give their own namely the Ulgathi and futhermore a wounded Red Clawkin we encountered in the woods. I'm afraid my lord has a bit of a bleeding heart."
"A southern lord?" The gnome said while squinting his eyes, "South to Swordhaven? Does your lord have a crest to identify him?"
"That is correct, my lord hails from Stormfallen," Azer replied calmly at which he saw people reach for their weapons in the crowd behind the gnome and raised his hand before he continued, "He came here fleeing from the Crimson Legion. A notorious branch in the Stormfallen army who had taken up their arms against a village under his protection. As such his crest as well as the rest of his heirlooms were lost to him."
Azer paused, "In fact, keeping this information to yourself and from Stormfallen sympathizer's ears is worth a coin alone," Azer browsed the contents of the pouch on his belt and threw the gnome a golden coin who caught it.
"Consider it done," the gnome said, pocketing the coin. At this sign, Azer signalled the others it was safe to come over.
"Oh, one more question. Where is the nearest orphanage? We came upon bandits on the road and my lord has been rather upset about the fact that he could not reimburse the stolen property back to the owners or their family and would at the very least like to make a charitable donation from the loot we came across," Azer said to the gnome even as he dismounted his steed.
"Well, I have never really paid attention to orphanages and you're the first the ask about them, to be honest. Let me see, the nearest village is half a day east from here on foot and the next town is a day somewhat to the northeast. Even though I never paid much attention to them it's a public secret each town has its own orphanage," The gnome replied somewhat surprised.
"Good," Azer thought, "A cheap place to eat while being charitable at that." Looking at the people eager to make room for them while tempting the newly arrived pouches to open up confirmed his suspicion that they could very well be needing it soon enough, for being stingy around these folk was not going to cut it if anything else than either party's necks and exposure. Azer handed each party-member their allowance, though Volu gracefully refused. "The young human has given me noble characteristics in his story, though my appearance would still cause a stir," he merely commented before walking over to the Weaver. Doc walked over to the gnome who was now standing near a mechanical water cooler whereas Redtail had gotten to make her acquaintance with a merchant trading salted nuts and crackers. Azer on the other hand was piqued by the Taladosian who he knew nearly nothing about, despite having been taught a great deal about Lore.
"Hello," Azer said as he approached the foreigner who was busy tying his bag.
"Hello to you too," the man said as he glanced up at the young brown-haired boy who had proclaimed to be the squire to a former DemonLord. He certainly had the clothes for it he considered, but squires usually didn't look that different from village-children around these parts. Back in Talados the children were dressed in the finest clothes of silk or perhaps that was just what Taladosian children looked nowadays. He couldn't clearly remember what he wore when he was younger.
"I couldn't but help notice your peculiar garments," Azer began, at which the man flinched.
"I know you are a Taladosian and couldn't help but overhear the conversation you had with that woman earlier," Azer continued in hopes of easing the man, but instead the Taladosian's eyes looked for a way of escape. Then something strange happened, the man started to stare at him and Azer could feel a presence in his mind.
"What do you want?" A voice demanded, it had a certain echo to it.
"W-what is going on?" Azer thought bewildered.
"I have set up a psychic connection between our two minds, so again what is it that you want?" The voice demanded.
"I wanted to ask you about the Great Scourge," Azer replied mentally.
"The Soulweaver wouldn't help me. It wouldn't hurt, but it also wouldn't help telling you," The voice exclaimed somewhat bitter in sentiment.
"Now what is it that you truly want from me?" The voice continued, "There is no need to continue this charade, boy."
"I do wish to learn about the Great Scourge or if you do not wish to answer me that perhaps tell me a bit about your homeland," Azer said.
"Your thoughts seem genuine. Oh the irony how a child would listen to words which have fallen on deaf ears with people who could actually do something about it," The voice lamented.
"I will not bother someone as young as yourself with the burden of my message, but seeing how you're going south I will give you a piece of advice. Do not bother, I went there already." The voice said before fading from his mind.
"Farewell," The man said before swinging his bag on his back and walking in the direction Azer's party had just come from earlier. Azer turned for a brief moment when Doc slammed the arm of another man on stone with armwrestling and when he turned to watch the Taladosian he was nowhere to be seen.
"Their swords are for fighting their feuds. They leave the swords along with the feuds behind."
A bald man, wearing some remarkably fine, white, linen clothes underneath a shabby brown overcoat, walked through a grassy meadow filled with Chrasks. Because of their viciousness, dreadful head which resembled the mixture of the heads of a crocodile, elephant and tuskmonger combined these boar-like creatures were considered monsters, though not much about them was magical and for the most part (really everything apart from their head) their bodies resembled rhinos more, and few hunters had anything to fear from them they still posed a threat to remote border villages where knights rarely ventured and a nuisance otherwise as they ate smaller wildlife away, making the creature hated by many a hunter though the same hunter loved to bring a Chrask down as its tusks made excellent speartips. It was probably the one redeeming quality anyone attributed to the Chrask. He was heading in the direction of a group of beige tents. In front of the tents stood some averagely muscled men having their upper torsos exposed, wearing only a goldenrod or silver-washed grey pants, a belt with many pockets, leather straps wrapped around their wrists, metal boots which looked a tad robotic and a helmet consisting of a wolf's head with a cloth, with two holes to see through, concealing their faces. They looked intimidating to say the least, wielding crooks and prods which conducted electricity in some sort of gnomish fashion the ones wielding the latter also seemed to wear a metal pauldron and bracelet which covered their left arm and shoulder, and the man was all too glad they didn't seem inclined to meet him. Well, the ones left at their own devices at least. He still had to face one posted near the biggest tent and blocked its entrance with his weapon, approaching it he caught a waft of grilled roast which he surmised had tormented the sentry, wearing silver-washed grey pants and wielding an electric prod, during his shift as well.
"Who goes?" The sentry asked.
"Sower, messenger to King Alteon the Balanced. I bring a message from his excellence to the tribal council of Herd Bosses," Sower answered and held out his right hand, showing off an ivory signet ring which displayed a dragonhead carved from the tusk of a Gorrillaphant.
"Proceed," The sentry nodded and moved his prod away from the tentflap, allowing Sower to enter.
On the inside of the big tent stood a long wooden table stacked with wooden plates filled with roast, apples, bacon, bread, fried eggs and frogzard legs. At the table itself sat twenty big muscled men, they were bald and shaved properly even though you'd wonder if they had cut themselves doing so as each single one of them seemed to have scars on their face or head. They wore the same things as the herdmasters wielding the electric prods, though rather than a flax pants they wore one made out of fur with a red loincloth hanging from their belt's buckle and had two wolves' tails for a "cape". The most obvious difference however was the fact they wore a sword on their belts which resembled a crazy-looking goat spitting out long, thin, metal blade. Next to the wooden chairs they sat on there was some other weaponry to be found ranging from two-handed axes to spiked maces resembling chickenlegs to warhammers.
"Welcome, to what do we owe this pleasure?" One of the Herd Bosses asked, raising a wooden goblet in greeting.
"I am at the behest of King Alteon of Swordhaven. He invites you to join him at his court in the near future to discuss the safety of the Harvest Festival this fall," Sowen said, dropping a curtsy.
"Ah yes, of course. The Harvest Festival. I think we all agree that we'll take the king of Swordhaven up on his invitation, don't we?" The Herd Boss spoke, putting his goblet back on the table while looking around at the others. All the Herd Bosses nodded in agreement.
"Tell your king that we will be there as soon as we have moved our current herd to its appointed destination," The Herd Boss said, turning to Sowen, then continued, "We were about to have brunch, would you like to join us?"
"Thank you for kind offer, m'lord, but King Alteon eagerly awaits your reply and so do the people of Swordhaven. I mustn't delay," Sowen replied, shaking his head with a smile.
"So do your kingdom proud, Sowen. At least accept this complimentary basket, we can't have you starve to death before you can relay your message, now can we?" The Herd Boss said with a grin, "Sentry, fill this man a basket and stop drooling! You know you'll get your turn!"
So Sowen, being disciplined as ever, left for Swordhaven with a richly-filled basket as the Herd Bosses started their extensive brunch.
"We haven't been hired to help out in wars for quite a while now," One of the Herd Bosses said thoughtfully.
"Quite so, but enough of politics, let's have a bite," The Herd Boss who had acted as spokesman interjected.
"Why have just one bite, when you can have it whole? Eat and drink like each day is your last," a voice whispered.
After a break which lasted a couple of hours, Azer and the others had picked themselves up and they had made it from the mountains into a lush green forest. Doc had learned Talados was apparently gone, but didn't want to tell that to Azer. Volu, much to his dismay, had to carry Redtail to keep up the pretense that she was injured and that he was a kindly former DemonLord from the annexed lands of Stormfallen.
"Why didn't you simply state that I was a half-giant, human? It would've been true enough," Volu asked Azer.
"That cloak doesn't hide your feet all that well, Volu," Azer replied Volu from the top of his frogzard and then added, "Besides your tail seems to have a life of its own."
"I could have remained separated," Volu retorted, snorting when Redtail brushed her tail in his face.
"Better to be upfront rather than to be found out later," Azer replied calmly, "You only would have attracted more attention that way and rumours would be abound anyhow. Trust me when I say that goodly demons are as much considered a tall tale in the northern kingdoms as is a half-giant travelling together with a Gua'Kia and an Ulgathi."
"What is a Gua'Kia?" Volu asked.
"The thing around your neck," Azer said with chuckle.
"That thing around my neck is getting bothersome," Volu said with a sour expression on his face.
"Is she getting heavy?" Azer inquired.
"Ď think our half-demon giant is strong enough, it is just his pride which is damaged a bit," Doc laughed, his scars stretching as he did.
"Shut u-," Volu began, before he was shut up himself and smacked into something. Azer, who had ridden in front, looked back concerned.
"What's going on? Is everyone alright?" Azer informed concerned.
"I ran into something, ugh." Volu said, rubbing his nose under his hood.
"I don't see anything," Doc said, "Are you sure you didn't imagine thin-"
Azer looked surprised as Doc was doing something like a mime-player does, if he knew what a mime-player was.
"There's some sort of barrier here, humee. I-We cannot get through," Doc said, awed by the force which kept him out.
Azer turned his frogzard and then got off, holding onto the leash with one hand while holding the other in front of him so he wouldn't walk into anything. Indeed, he sensed the faint sensation of flowing magic as he concentrated which was different from the bits of mana so ubiquitous to the air of Lore that even most mages didn't notice it anymore after a few years of training .... until they ran out. Finally, his hand rested against an invisible wall which didn't seem to filter out the faint breeze or the leaves that it carried despite it not being fall yet.
"I guess this is what the Taladosian was trying to tell me," Azer thought with a grimace.
"It appears there is some sort of magical barrier here," Azer confirmed and turned to Volu, "I don't suppose you could dispel this magic or even briefly interrupt it?"
"No, I cannot," Volu, who was tracing the magic as well, replied, shaking his head, "Even if I knew how to dispel magical barriers not of my own this magic would be far beyond my skill. Seeing how the magic flows in a straight line here the radius of this barrier covers a rather large area, that much I can tell. Even if we were not separated as we are now we would probably still need to track around its borders and that could take weeks, considering the mountainous area currently to our left."
"I'm not going anywhere soon and neither are you, that much is apparent," Azer sighed.
"I reckon there is some sort of magical ruin or something at the center of it all, I suggest you break it and come back here," Doc said.
"Does your brother know of these things, Ulgathi?" Volu inquired.
"Aye, our mages focus on the creation of such barriers, as a matter of fact," Doc said, "Not nearly this complex, never seen them conjure anything like this in me life."
"Well then, I'm off," Azer said and waved, though not after tying his frogzard to a tree.
"So I'm finally here, but where is here?" Azer thought to himself.
Walking alone through the woods, Azer reflected on what had happened the last two days. Thoughts came and went like the rays of sunlight falling through the forest roof.
"Should I have gone with a different approach as to Volu's identity?"
"I could have made him the noble without being part of Stormfallen, have my lessons not prepared me for such?"
"No, the gnome demanded a crest for identification. I could not have bluffed myself out of that one that easily then."
"Perhaps made him act as Doc's prisoner?"
"I was supposed to bring him in anyway, though a confinement room .... the closest one would be near Swordhaven, I think. My master would know ...."
The last thought made him stop dead in his tracks, "What did my master give me again?"
He took out the bag the dravir mage had given to him and glanced at its contents. The bag was filled with coins, which upon further inspection, depicted dragonheads .... and a note he nearly missed by being distracted by the golden coins. He fished it out of the bag and read it curiously.
~Lady Celestia~
"Dragon magic training and hatchling daycare center."
Azer flipped the card.
The Dragon Priestess does not see visitors without appointment. This card is good for one visit only.
"That would explain a lot," Azer thought as he stumbled out of the woods, being met by the sight of a large lake fed by stream coming down from the mountains in the north.
Earlier that day.
An elderly woman with long, flowing silvery-white hair, the Lady Celestia, sat at an elegant table on one of the two equally elegant chair in front of her little cottage, drinking a cup of steaming tea from a porcelain teacup. She wore a sleeveless dress white as snow, she found that sleeves just got tea spilled over them when playful young dragons knocked the contents out of her cup when jumping her legs. "The young ones always needed so much attention," She thought smiling. It was beautifully sunny and the birds sang their songs to their heart's contents as they bathed in the fountain next to the house, but still the only thing which caught her eye was the empty chair standing at her table. She cared for the dragons, of course, but she couldn't help but feel lonely in her sanctuary. She needed someone to talk to which was, in part, the reason why she had begun with offering to take on apprentices or even teach people the basics of dragon magic. She guessed that it wasn't much in demand in Swordhaven, let alone the rest of Battleonia, and Dragonsgrasp had its own trainers for the most part, though still nowhere near as proficient as herself. She gathered that much from the dragonlords and their servants who came to see her for their dragons.
"I know, the noble ladies like their sons and daughters to know proper etiquette," She smiled and put down her cup and saucer on the table and walked inside. She came back out a little later with a board reading "Lady Celestia, etiquette & tea terrace".
It didn't take long for Azer to stumble upon the little cottage, though he trembled a bit at the thought of knocking on the door. Dragon magic was the pinnacle of all arcane arts, scholars described it as the having the power to casually match the spells of an ArchMage without trying. Granted, a lot of that stuff was being exaggerated, but here he stood at the door of a living mistress of the arts considered to be inaccessible to those who were not affiliated to dragonkin in one way or another. The art to bring him to a next level of magic entire. He hesitated, then knocked three times and waited for a minute for the door to open.
"Oh hello," Lady Celestia said surprised as she eyed the boy. She hadn't expected such a .... poorly dressed individual to show up at her doorstep.
"Could I help you with anything?" She asked him.
"Are you Lady Celestia," he asked her nervously.
"Yes, I am the Lady Celestia," She responded.
"I came here for ...." Azer began, but she cut him off, "I'm sorry, but I think that is a bit expensive for you."
"I have the coins," He replied and, much to her surprise, pushed a bag filled with dragoncoins into her hands.
"Ah yes, perfect. Let me get the equipment then," She said flustered and closed the door.
"My first customer already," She thought to herself with a little smile, surprised but pleased.
Azer saw the elderly mage come out with plate with a teapot and two cups with saucer included. He was a bit surprised by this and wondered if it was part of some sort of ritual.
"Very well, the main thing to remember is not speaking when others do and do not address the higher nobles unless spoken to," She said as she poured in Azer some hot water.
"Uhm, excuse me bu-," Azer interrupted her.
"I see why you were sent to me, but do not worry for I will have some manners out of you yet," Lady Celestia interrupted him and chanted a short spell at which Azer felt his tongue swell up.
"Do not worry, tea from Tortello Frond has an easing effect on your tongue. Now where were we?" She said, tending to her own cup.
For the next two hours Azer spent his time learning etiquette, unable to say anything and unable to do anything out of fear he'd upset the powerful priestess. It was getting late when they heard the sound of approaching footsteps, a teenager about thirteen years old with brown hair wearing the white acolyte robe of a Paladin and an older man with grey hair and a goatee wearing a yellow robe with cowl entered the clearing in front of Lady Celestia's cottage.
"Hello Sanctus, how nice to see you," Lady Celestia smiled.
"Hello Celestia, I see you have a guest already," Sanctus replied, looking at Azer, then looked at the acolyte, "That could mean we actually get to talk ourselves. Why don't you go talk to him, Artix?"
< Message edited by Dwelling Dragonlord -- 12/18/2014 15:59:12 >
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